


Confession

by REMSleep (radianterin)



Series: Past & Present [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of incest, Mild Language, Out of Character, Slavery, hurt!Zoro, mentions of past rape, protective!Sanji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 10:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radianterin/pseuds/REMSleep
Summary: "That’s all it was. A story I told everyone, including myself. It’s easier to make something up than to face what really happened.”Zoro reveals that the story he's told Sanji and the crew about his past was all a lie.





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for the One Piece fandom and has not been beta'ed. OOC but that's what fics are for.
> 
> We've never been introduced to Zoro's parents in One Piece and I couldn't get this idea out of my head as an alternate version of Zoro's past, told by him. This is part one of a series called "Past & Present" that follows Zoro and Sanji as they navigate the aftermath of their respective pasts together.

Zoro had been oddly distant and almost _jumpy_ since their encounter with a fleet of strange ships earlier that day. They had an intricate, flower shaped sigil on each mainsail, in shades of purple and gold. The ships never acknowledged their presence and sailed right past them, almost misty in appearance. Sanji wasn’t sure they had even been real. The rest of the crew had chalked them up as one of the many eccentricities of the Grand Line and moved on. Shortly after the encounter, Zoro had disappeared somewhere, but no one thought much of it.

 

After Zoro didn’t show up for dinner, Sanji began to get worried, though he would never voice that in easy terms to the crew. He was still trying to keep his burgeoning crush on Zoro under wraps. “Oi,” he addressed the crew, “if you see the damn marimo, tell him he better not miss another meal.”

 

He cleaned up both the kitchen and himself a bit before venturing out on deck for a moment of peace away from the rest of the crew. It was already dark; at times the days got away from him and Sanji prepared their evening meal later than usual. It was Chopper’s turn for watch and he was up in the crow’s nest, but otherwise everyone else had retired to their respective cabins.

 

He thought he’d have the deck to himself, but Sanji found Zoro leaning with his forearms against the railing, staring out across the horizon. The light of the full moon made him clearly visible, washing out all color as thought he the subject of an old black and white photograph. Before Sanji could confront him about missing dinner, Zoro spoke.

 

“I lied to you,” Zoro said. “All of you.”

 

Sanji was taken aback, and more than a little confused. “What are you talking about?”

 

Zoro hung his head, shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other, and back again. He stared at the deck of the ship. Sanji had never seen him look this unsure of himself. “I didn’t have a name until I was 17. And now I’m still not sure I deserve one.”

 

“Zoro,” Sanji said, quickly losing his intellectual footing. “I’m not following you. What the hell are you saying?”

 

Green eyes came back up to stare at the endless expanse of water.

 

“I was never a student at any dojo. I never had a sensei, and Kuina wasn’t my rival, or my friend. Hell, Kuina’s name is the only part of my story that was true. And she really _was_ a better swordsman than me. She’s still alive, so maybe she still is better than me. But that’s not hard to achieve when you’re afforded the privilege of freedom.”

 

Sanji said nothing. He was still trying to figure out what exactly was happening.

 

“That’s all it was. A story I told everyone, including myself. It’s easier to make something up than to explain what really happened.”

 

Sanji felt as though he should comprehend everything Zoro was saying, but the words were just rattling around uselessly in his head. He’d also never heard Zoro speak for this long, uninterrupted.

 

“I don’t know if you intend to expand on any of this,” Sanji said, attempting to keep their usual banter with each other, “but if you are, I think we both need a drink first.”

 

Zoro said nothing, but turned on his heel and headed into the galley. Sanji followed him and found him with a bottle of sake already out, drinking straight from it.

 

“Tch. Can you at least use a glass?”

 

“Those ships today,” Zoro said, ignoring him. “They reminded me of something.”

 

Sanji lit a cigarette and pulled out a bottle of sake and a glass for himself. “That why you been actin’ weird all day? Well, weirder than usual."

 

Zoro ignored him again. He was hunched over the table like a wounded animal. Uneasiness settled in Sanji's spine.

 

“When masters get their slave girls pregnant,” he started, “it’s the girls that get punished for it. But they wait til the child is born, because it wouldn’t be economical otherwise. Which is why I never met my mother. She was executed the day I was born. She couldn’t have been any older than we are now.”

 

An imaginary fist sucker-punched Sanji in the gut.

 

“For a while the others thought I was gonna be raised by the master’s family. From what I gather I lived in the estate, and was taken care of by their wet nurses. But when I started growing hair they realized everyone would know that I was a bastard and not the son of the master’s wife. Her and the master both had black hair, see, and I obviously didn’t fit in that equation. My mother was a domestic slave so all of the well-to-dos had been to the estate and seen the girl with long green hair serving their food and pouring their wine. Even though masters had illegitimate children with slaves all the time it was still socially taboo to treat those children as your own. So they passed me off to the others and gave me my number.”

 

Of all the directions Zoro’s story could have gone, this was not one he expected. Sanji was in no way prepared for this. He realized he was still standing at the cabinet where he'd pulled the sake bottle from. He closed the door gently and took a seat across the table from Zoro. All he could do now was sit down, shut up, and listen.

 

“Kuina was their daughter and she was only 3 when I was born but she remembered the few months that I lived in the estate. So after I became 207 she would sneak out to the slaves’ quarters and ask to see me. The others loved her. She wasn’t like the other masters. 154 was my mother’s best friend, and Kuina found out from her that I was her half-brother, and when I got older she taught me everything. Including swordsmanship. Because slaves don’t get an education and they sure as hell don’t get weapons. So she brought me her best sword to practice with and told her father that she dropped it off a cliff. I kept it hidden until I escaped. She also taught me to read. I guess the master thought it was harmless that she spent so much time with the slaves.”

 

A respectable swig of sake disappeared down Zoro’s throat.

 

“But she was the legitimate child of a wealthy slave master. I spent all day and sometimes all night out in the farms, doing all the labor that a fully-grown man should’ve been doing. So I didn’t have time to be as good as her, or as smart, or as articulate. And for all her kindness she really was naïve. She thought that her father still saw me as his son in some way. So she tried for years to get me a place to live in the estate as a domestic, which backfired in the most spectacular way possible.”

 

He paused for a long while, and Sanji thought he might stop there. He was gripping his glass so hard he was afraid it might break, and the butt of his cigarette was dangling forgotten from his lips.

 

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Zoro said, almost angrily. “It’s just going to get spread around the ship and-“  


“If I told anyone, you would have every right to slice me up and I wouldn’t stop you,” Sanji said fiercely. “Nothing leaves this kitchen unless you say so.”

 

Zoro met his eyes but didn’t reply. Sanji felt himself being scanned for dishonesty. It seemed Zoro found none, and he looked away again, out the porthole.

 

“I must’ve been 12 or 13 when they brought me back to the estate. At first I thought they were just going to let me live there. It was the first time I had ever slept in a real bed. Sure, they kept my door locked and only opened it to pass food in and out, but it was something. I even had my own _bathroom_. But the first time a man came to my room in the middle of the night I realized why I was there. All sorts of _lords_ and _ladies_ visited the estate for all sorts of reasons, and they all had different tastes. I found out through word of mouth that I was one of ten body slaves they kept. I guess one had offed himself by making a noose out of his curtains, so they needed a replacement. It was a compromise to get Kuina to shut up about me. She got to see me whenever she wanted. But so did all of the visitors to the estate.”

 

He sighed heavily, still looking out the porthole. Sanji saw red.

 

“I don’t know how many people used me. I try not to think about it too much.”

 

He suddenly reached across the table and plucked Sanji’s cigarettes and lighter out of his shirt pocket. He lit one and took a harsh drag before continuing. Sanji said nothing, reeling.

 

“I tried to fight off the first man who came for me. Did a damn good job too, but he ended up being stronger. Left him with a black eye and a broken nose. Afterwards the master came in and-“

 

He stopped suddenly and looked as though he might be sick. Sanji saw his eyes glass up, and he reached over to settle a hand on Zoro’s forearm, who flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.

 

“You don’t have to do this.”

 

“Yes I do.” Zoro swallowed thickly and Sanji watched his Adam’s apple bob.

 

“Afterwards he came in and…taught me a lesson. I ended up with some cracked ribs and a concussion, but…that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that I was still bleeding from the first time when he forced himself in.”

 

Now it was Sanji’s turn to feel sick.

 

“After, he said, ‘you look just like your mother. It’s a shame about her. Maybe I should come here more often’.”

 

Sanji watched his hands ball up into fists to stop his fingers from trembling.

 

“I didn’t fight anymore after that.”

 

“He was your father,” Sanji spat. “And you were a child…”

 

“He was my owner,” Zoro corrected. “And I was just property.”

 

He didn’t give Sanji a place to object before continuing again. “That went on for a few years. Eventually I was allowed to roam the estate with Kuina and a few guards to make sure I didn’t try to escape. I had a feeling Kuina knew what was going on, she was too old and too smart not to. But we didn’t talk about it. I didn’t want her to feel guilty after she worked so hard to get me a place to live in the estate.”

 

Zoro suddenly laughed, harsh and bitter.

 

“But one day I couldn’t help myself, and I needed to know if she knew. We were in the gardens and the guards had wandered off, so I asked.”

 

He took another drag of his cigarette and scratched the side of his nose, shaking his head.

 

“Stupid, stupid thing to do. I asked, and you know what she said? ‘It was my idea in the first place. After I heard that a body slave died I told father you would make a good replacement. You’re more attractive than the other guy was, anyway. I thought it would be a good change from doing all that farm work’. That’s when I realized she was just like the rest of them. It didn't matter what happened to me, as long as she got to keep her plaything around.”

 

He palmed at his eyes, and Sanji knew he was trying not to cry. It broke his heart.

 

“Ever since that first night I wanted nothing more than to go back to the farms. I escaped later that night. I don’t even remember how I did it. I went and dug up my sword where I hid it at the edge of one of the pastures and spent the next couple years practicing and bounty hunting. I didn’t pick my name until a few months after that. The rest is history.”

 

Sanji didn’t know what to think or where to start. He knew there was no way Zoro had ever spoken about this before. There were a million questions banging around in his skull, and only about half of them were even appropriate to ask. He started with an innocent one.

 

“How did you pick your name?”

 

Zoro sighed. “My mother wasn’t born a slave. I found out from 154 that her name was Zippora. So I picked a ‘Z’ name. And I pulled ‘Roronoa’ out of my ass. Thought it sounded cool if I ever got famous.” He shrugged and took another pull from the bottle.

 

Sanji chuckled at that despite the situation. “Little did you know,” he said. “It suits you.”

 

Zoro was looking at his hands intently. “Zippora means ‘bird’,” he said softly. Sanji saw his eyes, glistening with tears. “She didn’t get to do much flying, did she?”

 

Sanji swallowed, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “She would be proud of you,” he said gently. “ _I’m_ proud of you.”

 

Zoro’s shoulders shook as he covered his face with his hands again. Sanji rose and took a new seat beside him, placing a hand on his back gently before moving it to wrap around both shoulders, pulling Zoro sideways towards him. His other hand found Zoro’s head, stroking his hair soothingly. There, behind Zoro’s left ear, Sanji spotted a tiny _207_ in black ink.

 

“You deserved so much better,” Sanji whispered, now in tears himself. “You still do.”

 

Zoro let out a sob and gripped on to Sanji’s arm tightly, his emotions overtaking him.

 

“It’s okay,” Sanji whispered, close to Zoro’s ear. “You have a name, and a home, and a ship full of people who love you. Thank you for telling me all of this.”

 

He felt Zoro nod, still crying. They stayed that way for a long while, until Zoro’s breathing evened out and his grip became less of a vice on Sanji’s arm. As far as Sanji was concerned, he could never let go and that would be alright with him.

 

“When I saw those ships today, the sigil looked the same as the estate where I came from. I panicked. I thought he’d found me,” Zoro admitted, voice lower now.

 

“I’ll never let that happen,” Sanji said fiercely, squeezing Zoro briefly. “You know we’d track that fucker down for you if you wanted, no questions asked.”

 

“Yeah. I’ll tell the rest of the crew eventually. When you came out on deck I knew that I just…needed you to know.” He paused. “I have…feelings for you. I have for a while.”

 

Sanji smiled and pulled back slightly to look into Zoro’s eyes. “Same here,” he said softly.

 

Zoro smirked. “I knew it, cook. I’ve seen you checking me out while I’m training or in the middle of a fight.” His eyes were still red from crying but had a mischievous glint to them again. Sanji thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He rolled his eyes.

 

“Whatever you say, marimo.”

 

They grinned at each other for a moment before Sanji became serious again.

 

“We’ll take it slow,” Sanji said. “I don’t expect anything from you. Ever.”

 

Zoro leaned in slowly and pressed his lips gently to Sanji’s, and Sanji felt like he was the luckiest man alive to have such a privilege. He placed his hands on the sides of Zoro’s face and pulled back to look at him.

 

“Roronoa Zoro,” he said, realizing he’d never said Zoro’s full name out loud.

 

Zoro closed his eyes and smiled. “That’s my name.”

 

“You’re damn right,” Sanji agreed.

 

As Zoro’s eyes opened to meet his own, Sanji knew they would get through anything that came at them together.


End file.
